The boys from 221
by Catrlgirl
Summary: AU Where Sherlock, John, and Mycroft, turned their skills to the seedy underwold of drugs and weapons smuggling, becoming one of the most successful undergrounds rings in the UK. Follow as crew 221 run the streets of London under the cover of smoke, and sociopathy. Action Adventure JohnLock M: for language and adult themes such as drug abuse and illegal behaviors
1. Chapter 1

"Are you really bloody certain about getting into bed with this Addler woman, Sherlock? I swear I will not be there to pull your arse out of the fire if this goes tits up. She's bad Sherlock. The Yard has a mile long hard on for this one."

The slender dark haired man blew out acrid smoke from his cigarette and looked at John.

"Don't make idle threats, John," He said calmly. "You know very well that you are committed to 221. To me." Sherlock seemed to fit the dimly lit rather dusty flat. His slender frame molded to the chair he had his leg's crossed in.

"Oh bugger all!: John's face contorted in his displeasure. Then he just let his head rest in his hands exhausted. "Sherlock this is risky business. We got a good thing going now. There must be another way. I don't trust this Irene woman. It smells wrong, mate."

"And what exactly do you propose I do, John?" The question was flat and inflectionless. Smoke circled Sherlock as he dared his flatmate to answer. It was one of the tall man's most irritating qualities. One of the ones that kept John on the very edge of walking out of the ugly flat and telling him to fuck off ad infinitum.

"I don't KNOW! I don't think.."

"EXACTLY! YOU DON'T think. You don't fucking think obviously. We need her. Expansion, John, I'm talking about potential for growth you shortsighted, idiot." He took another drag on the cigarette sitting back in his chair calming himself. John always knew how to rouse him. It was a most irritating quality. "Are you sure your problem with me getting into bed with this Addler woman, isn't that it might involve me … getting into bed with this Addler Woman?"

"Oh, Don't think so bloody highly of yourself, you sodding self centered bastard. If your want to shake hands with a glorified whore. Then see if I care." It was then that John left the stifling flat. Sherlock looked at the cigarette and stubbed it out. What was wrong with him, he had bloody well quit. He could not blame John for his reaction. Irene Addler was well known underground. Far more well known than was smart business to work with. Infamy came with risk, The Woman as she was known had a finger in a lot of metaphorical pies. Human Trafficking, Prostitution, and Smuggling were all listed in her resume. Their … business ventures had often bumped heads now it was time to see if they could help each other and lessen the damage that head bumping caused.

Irene sat in the rather chic little bar absently swinging her red stiletto clad foot. It was not what she was expecting. She looked up as she heard the tap of a cane on the floor and the chair move. He placed a mobile on the table.

"Ms, Addler."

"Mr. Holmes. I can't say that you were what I was envisioning."

"Quite." He said. He scanned Irene she was what most would call beautiful. Not pretty There was something predatory about her. Something hard about her eyes and mouth. He could not quite tell if it irritated him. She covered it well though. She sofetend it with the lipstick. She put a muffler on the growl that she seemed to resonate with her smile. "Now tell me why I should entertain this ludicrous offer. You represent a substantial risk to my business, don't you Ms. Addler? Tell me the benefits."

"Oh it's quite simple, Mr. Holmes. Mutual benefit. Our... our work has crossed paths before and it seems fortuitous for us to work together. In simple terms the benefit is profit. A lot of profit."

"Fortuitous to whom? Profit for whom?" He raised and eyebrow and looked at Irene, "Stop being coy Ms. Addler." The short brunette man waved a waiter away. This place didn't have anything for him. And he didn't like how closely the waiter was to them. Nosy bastard. At least the place was mostly empty.

"Oh, but Mr. Holmes playing coy is what I do best. Every man appreciates a tease."

"I assure you I certainly do not," He said narrowing his eyes. "Get on with it or consider this negotiation over."

"Very well." Irene actually looked disappointed. A little sad frown on her face. "Way to kill the mood. You have an overwhelming abundance of something I need. I have a variety of useful contacts and an abundance of things you need and there is much money to be made if we stop getting in each others way. This sounds like smart businesses." Irene's smile was bright and she offered Mycroft a cigarette. He nodded and took it. He pulled a gold lighter from his pocket.

"And what exactly is it we have that you need?" He exhaled smoke and looked at Irene again this time a little less absently. She had his attention now. Good.

"Guns," Mr holmes. "Guns and drugs. I have heard tell that you have the single greatest local supply of both." Mycroft took a drag on the cigarette and tapped his fingers on the head of the cane across his lap.

"And what do you have that I need? This is no a one sided relationship is it?"

Irene laughed curling her red painted lips. "Oh you would be surprised by how often they are, Mr. Holmes. "I have a few very lucrative contacts among the Bobby boys. As well as a completely untapped market of buyers for all of your current shall we say imports. Now don't you think it's time I met the real Mr. Holmes?" Mycroft grinned and hit the speaker button on the phone on the table.

"Clever girl," Sherlock said. "Bring her Mycroft." Mycroft stubbed the cigarette out in the ashtray on the table. And ended the call. The ride was quiet and almost comfortable in the sleek luxury car. The city outside the tinted window changed as the drive continued townhouses and shops gave way to the riverside and old warehouses. Using the shining head of his cane he tapped on the dividing glass and the black. Sedan slowed to a stop across from a large storage unit.

"Welcome to 221," Mycroft said as he stepped out of the car. The elder Holmes opened the heavy door and the couple saw Sherlock sitting at a table weighing a pile of snowy powder. He turned raising an eyebrow at Irene.

"Ms. Addler," he said. He snapped his finger and the young man dusted the powder into a bag. Several young people we're dividing up the powder.

"Mr. Holmes." She said nodding.

"Pure. I cut it and weigh it myself. I don't ship anything I don't trust." He dusted a small pile of the powder onto his hand and snorted it. He shook his head and nodded. "It's good boys. Ship it." Mycroft curled his lip in disgust. His younger brother rolled his eyes and he held out a hand to Irene as he stood. Irene shook his hand.

"You are quite a character, Mr Holmes. And you are running quite a complex organization. I want to help."

"Wrong. You, Ms. Addler you want to gain. Do not lie to me." Sherlock ran a hand through his thick dark hair. "You aren't doing this to help me or 221. You are doing this to make money and connections. I know that."

"Clever boy. What do you need, Mr. Holmes?"

"I need the coppers to not be cocking up my business. I have a very good deal in the works. Largest supply I have ever personally handled. Shall we call it diversifying. Higher quantities, greater purity, new products."

"Excellent." Irene said. She had to admit everything seemed quite efficient with the work she saw in the warehouse. The scurrying men dividing the cocaine were fast and surprisingly cared for looking. Clean and focused. No shaking. No coughing. Far better than she had expected. "I have someone you should talk to. I'm pretty sure he has heard of you."

"I should certainly hope not," Sherlock said. "Wouldn't you agree, Mycroft."

"I can Assure it," Mycroft said. "It would represent a rather sad breach of 221 security. The sort of thing I do not allow. Who is he?"

"Detective Chief Inspector Lestrade. A very good friend of mine actually. And someone who can be an even better friend to you, Mr. Holmes. That is if you let him."

"Mycroft?" Sherlock asked turning his rather dilated eyes towards his older brother. Already the phone was in his hand. Mycroft whistled as he scrolled down the screen.

"Nauhty boy he is. Yes," the elder Holmes said. "A few strikes against his personnel file. Abuse of force. A few suspicious rumors concerning his time in the homicide department. Currently holding steady and keeping a low profile in the Special Circumstances Devision. I'm assuming that is where you met him. Ms. Addler." Irene nodded no use hiding it they knew what she did.

"Shall I put you in contact?"

"No need. We'll contact him and you on our terms. Ms. Addler," Mycroft replied. "I'm thinking that will be all for now. How about you Brother Mine?"

"Quite. Get out we have work to do." Irene did not react to the rudeness. It was to be expected. They were silly little men doing silly little men things. It was no worse than what she saw on nearly a daily basis. She could easily show herself out. No harm done just mild annoyance that she would soon forget under the flood of income.

"I understand gentlemen but before I scurry off and leave you boys to your.. work I need to know how we are to handle this flood of new income nad inventory. This is a risk for me as well." 

"That is my job, Ms. Addler and you need not worry." Mycroft looked up from his phone as he leaned heavily on his cane his leg's crossed. "My Contacts are varied and skilled. And you do not need to be aware of them. One of the things you will need to know working with 221 is to keep your mouth shut and to not ask too many questions. Am I understood? That is why we do not have the problems you have."

"Very well. I look forward to this, Good evening Gentlemen."

"Good evening," Sherlock said. "And welcome to 221, Ms. Addler."

Irene sank into the soft cushion of her own car. "Home, Jessica," She said."

"Course, Ma'am." Irene greatly liked Jessica. Sweet. Simple minded obedient Jessica. By far her best girl. The one she kept warm and cozy in her own bed. "Thank you for following Jessica. I didn't know they would be taking me so far out." Irene reached into her handbag and pulled out her phone. She tapped her foot as it rang. "Oh answer damn you," She said.

"What!?" The deep raspy voice hissed into the phone. "I told you not to call this bloody number you stupid bitch."

"Oh shut your mouth you arrogant pig," Irene hissed into the phone. "I am about to hand you the wieght of your oversized ego in pounds. If you pull you head out of your arse and listen for a minute you'd learn something, Lestrade."

"Fair enough. I'd like ot remind you to watch your tongue when you're talking to me, Addler."

"Please." Irene scoffed. She might have to make nice with Holmes but she had little patience right now for Greg and his posturing. Well honestly she never had patience for the stupid drunken bastard … but he was far to useful to cut. "I'm cutting a very very lucrative deal and I need you in on it."

"Same as always Irene 30 percent. No negotiations. What do you need."

"Just information, Lestrade. I need to know what your people in the yard know. That's all some big business is going down for a good while and I need your people focused elsewhere. Misderection as it were. And if you drop your price to say twenty percent I won't charge you at the door. Think about it Greg. Absolutely free." The mobile clicked as Lestrade ended the connection and Irene rolled her eyes. Such an exasperating man. Then she closed her eyes and just let the quiet and the motion of the car sooth her. She'd had enough of work for the day time for play. She had plans for her lovely Jessica. Delightful dirty deviant plans. Now all she had to do was wait.

"Sherlock what have I told you about this shit?"

"Oh Come of it, Mycroft. That was barely a taste. Got to test the stuff. Only reason business is so good is because I know the product."

"Well I'm sure. I don't need to remind you of your problems do I? Of what I said?" Mycroft lit a cigarette with his gold lighter leaning against the wall of the spacious storage unit. Sherlock watched his older brother the heavy lean on the cane as he puffed smoke.

"No the gash in the side of my head is quite the reminder. Surprised you got that damn thing clean."

"What? It's my job to knock sense into that bloody thick head of yours."

"Not with the blunt end of a steel tipped cane. I think I rather like our new friend."

"You would. I can't imagine it went over well with the smart one." Sherlock laughed a sharp barking sound. "John?" He'll get over it. He doesn't stay mad at me for long."

"Well brother mine. I'll call my Colombian friends tomorrow. And I'll be having a good look at this Lestrade bloke. I don't quite like the business of this woman. Far too much paper work and noise."

"Oh come now I have to keep your job interesting. You'd die of boredom at Buckingham any other way."

"So True Brother Mine. So true." Mycroft exhaled smoke and then stubbed the cigarette out on the cement floor. "221 is expanding." The rage on Irene's face made it look beastly. Her hand slammed across the already bruised face. Her heavy ring cut into the girl's skin. Irene shared at the blood staining her hand.  
"Damned junky whore."Where the hell is he getting these girls? "Stop that bloody shaking," Irene hissed. "You'll get worse if you don't." Wide eyed and terrified the girl stared. She did not understand the angry woman who was hitting her. Glazed empty eyes stared up at Irene. She sighed. Nothing she was worth nothing. Too many scars and too jittery. Rotted teeth and sallow sickly white skin from the meth most likely. Only thing that made her almost salvageable was that she was young. Young and skinny. Maybe twenty-one. "Ughh. Is everyone here a complete jackass." Irene said. Then Irene felt a soft tap at her shoulder. It was the curvaceous redhead Jessica when she looked over her shoulder.

"It's Holmes, Ma'am.

"Good took him long enough. Handle this Jessica and tell Richard I need to talk to him. This shit is unacceptable. He can't keep bringing me sick junkies I can't use. I am not running some ten dollar cunt operation. I need healthy girls. Not ... that." She said pointing at the girl on the floor. "Get her cleaned up. Might make a difference." Irene took the Mobile phone Jessica was holding.

"Mr. Holmes it certainly took a while too settle things didn't it?"

"Not at all," Mycroft said. "These delicate things can't be rushed. Haste makes mistakes. We don't want this to be a mistake, Addler." Mycroft leaned back in the plush leather chair of his private office. He momentarily wondered if Irene conducted business in such luxury. He sincerely doubted it. She was most likely much more akin to his little brother doing deals in dusty storehouses and ramshackle whorehouses. He worked at an antique mahogany desk in an office with a mural painted ceiling in Buckingham Palace. "We need to discuss quantity where would you like to meet?"

"The Silver Crown Hotel. I'll leave an executive pass for you at the desk. Take it to the penthouse floor." Irene ended the call and then she rather gracelessly flopped on the couch. She did not want ot get up and go to her desk and call the desk but she did. "Hello, front desk."

"Yes, Ma'am. A man will be arriving soon I need an Executive pass key set for him and the nescort him personally to the penthouse lift."

"Of Course, Madame Addler."

John scowled at Mycroft in the back of the car. It wasn't the first itme he had found himself unceremoniously shoved into one of Mycroft's vehicles. And he sis not like it any more this time. At least the ride was not unbearable long.

"I don't like this. I don't."

"You'll get over it, John" Sherlock assured him absently on his other side.

"Yeah when I'm stitching up your arse again when this all goes wrong and people start shooting. Or will I get over it whem I'm rotting under a prison cell. Why are we just going ot meet her in public."

Both Holmes men rolled their eyes.

"Why do you always pick the stupid ones. You have a thing Sherkock. Always damned thickheaded stupid ones. Listen, boy," Mycroft said. "Nothing says shady, illegal, most likely treasonous shit like a group of people skulking around in secret. We're just going to a very legitimate business meeting with a successful hotel owner with a tragic past."

"Clearly Sherlock replied. And it was one time John. And it was that fat bastards fault."

"We do have the same parent's, brother dear, no matter how much it pains me to admit it." Before the bickering brothers could drive John any more insane the car pulled to a stop. The place was nice. Not extravagant exactly but nice. Perhaps second tier Mycroft thought. The lobby was clean and well lit. Modern, and very chic. Paler wood and more neutral colors catering to young wealth. Not the stifling fussy opulence of old nobility. Sleek leather sofas held a few piddling visitors on laptops. A few bar patrons drank off the lobby entrance. Mycroft's cane tapped on the wood floor as the trio crossed to the desk. "I believe there is an executive pass for me. The owner is expecting us for a meeting."

"Yes, gentlemen, you're the investors. Of course this card will get you into the private penthouse life. Jessica our head of staff will be escorting you from there. Good evening." John and Sherlock followed Mycroft into the lift and the new businessmen ventures. Their first meeting had been testing. Foreplay now it was time to has numbers and talk specifics. It was time to merger.


	2. Chapter 2

Hello readers I certainly hope you enjoyed the first chapter. I know things seem to be going slowly bit the story is progressing just getting some of the character building and set up out of the way first. Please comment and Like if you enjoy it means a lot to me as the writer

Without further ado Back to the story

The air in Irene Addler's office was tense in the way it is when people discuss important things. It was charged in that peculiar way. 

"I assure you, gentlemen I enjoyed the thorough foreplay but I assume you are here to get to the important parts."

"Yes. Mycroft has had his fun piddling about. There are things you need and we are sure it's beneficial and safe for us to provide them. You need a doctor to look after the influx of men and women you've smuggled into the country, medicine to wean the addicts and street runts you currently have. Guns for your deliverymen and bouncers who keep your whores in transit."

"She also needs information about border control and security to get them here without any more embarrassing mishaps," Mycroft interjected. "Patrol locations, airport security check schedules, that sort of thing. Also thinking she needs a better location for holding these unfortunates at arrival. Like maybe one of the multiple storehouses you use for cutting and shipping. Oh and we mustn't forget drugs to bribe those officials we can't outright intimidate and to keep the noses of the cartel's suitably powdered."

"Oh, if you want to be obvious," Sherlock said waving a hand dismissivly. His big frame filled the chair in the way only he could. John was very familiar with the way the tall skinny man took up more space than he seemed he should. "John." Sherlock said. That made Watson look up and stop staring at his flatmate awkwardly.

"Yeah."

"How hard would it be for you to get medication?"

"Not very," John said. "Depends on the type, though mate. Narcotic pain medication and terminal illness medicine are the hardest. Downright impossible without help... more people invilved than we need." 

"Doubt she'd be needing that," Sherlock replied. "Probably antibiotics, and trauma treatments. A few skulls bound to get bashed and a john get nasty. A stray shot or two that sort of thing. Nothing you haven't seen before and worse I'm sure. Boring"

"I'm trying to go upscale as you can see. I'm running a classy place.," Irene said. "All the trimmings and I can't have jittery, toothless, dry junkies working. I need them clean and as whole as I can get them."

"Smart business, Ms Addler," Mycroft said. "The problem is how will you control them. The reason most pimps keep pumping drugs into whores is because it makes them pliable, controllable and not likely to run or attack a client."

"Oh best believe I have ways to control them. And I am intending to provide a different clientele shall we say a very well paying completely untapped niche market."

None of the men in the study seemed convinced but they didn't say anything. Well they were until John leaned forward in his chair and said, "I would need to see them." 

"That can be arranged, Doctor. In about a week I'll have a shipment of very fresh girls in. If he is so gracious I'll have John come with me and give them a look."

Sherlock drummed his fingers on the side of the chair in thought. "Sound plan miss Addler," he said. "I'm sure John will be of value keeping everyone in working shape. I'm assuming you're going to be accompanying us to pick up these things you need soon?"

"Of course, gentleman. I think this is the beginning of a beautiful relationship. Let's hash out the numbers. Now how much of a cut are you wanting for providing me with weapons, medicine, these boltholes, and drugs."

"Thirty percent," Mycroft said.

"Rubbish," Addler said. "I'll give you eighteen, you greedy bugger."

"Oh, No, Ms. Addler you will give us thirty and for giving us thirty percent you'll not only get your guns, drugs, and the medical help we can provide," Mycroft said a small knowing smile on his face. "You also get the services I provide as well as complete protection from the dangers you were previously facing. It is quite a bargain."

"Dangers? What dangers? Is this a threat, Mr. Holmes? I do not take kindly to them."

"Oh not at all, no. It's a warning you were making some rather important enemies one of whom happens to be a great friend of his." The mildly pudgy man pointed to his skinny brother.

"Enemies? Who? I haven't been stepping on toes. I barely even bumped up against your operation."

"Hudson," Sherlock said.

"Quite, brother mine. Such a feisty one. Very short tempered and you my dear were smack in the center of her radar. Vouching for you and yours will be well worth the extra cost with her. There is also the simple fact that you need much more from us than we need from you. We have other viable options to get the extra manpower we need. I find it very unlikely that you do, Ms. Addler. Call it an expedience fee."

Irene narrowed her eyes but didn't reject the notion. She didn't like this one bit. She did not like that the name Hudson had not come up before. It was not smart to be caught unaware. And it was dangerous to have people talking about you in her business. That is what hat caused her downfall in the past. She had learned her lessons.

"Fine, thirty. But only because he can provide hospital grade medication. It's worth it compared to the rubbish waterygenerics I can pull from the streets. If this changes your price drops in accordance no negotiations."

Sherlock shrugged and said, "As good a reason as any other if you need to justify it. Mycroft will contact you once we settle everything with Hudson and our friends."

"Thank You, Gentleman."

Irene carefully watched the trio of men leave her study. This was not amusing she did not like the name they had brought up. She didn't like that she had not heard it. She did not like that whoever this Hudson was had heard of her. Then again how much faith should she put into the words of these three. She hardly knew them and they were obviously biased in terms of wanting more money. But it was fine she would take this loss for now. She had other sources a rather steep cut was not going to be any serious issue for Irene.

"I do so detest this place," Sherlock said. The brick building was in no way imposing. There were garden boxes beneath the windows and a welcome mat on the stoop. Sherlock rang the bell and he heard the quiet shuffling behind the door and it was opened by a smiling old woman with soft curling grey hair.

"Mrs. Hudson. It's been an age since you came around to. Oh come in come in."

There was something very very off about Mrs. Hudson. Always smiling always the proper lady never a hair out of place or a doily off center. "Now what brings you to me, boys. From what I hear you've been doing awfully well for yourselves. My friends are impressed."

"Oh we are very sure, that is actually what we're here to talk about," Mycroft said as they followed the little woman into her sitting room. Soft floral couches and every surface impeccably dusted. The very very perfect nature of everything in the room made Sherlock antsy.

"We are expanding."

Mrs. Hudson grinned and cocked her head. "I had heard from a friend of mine. Your latest order was something impressive. And I know why you are here. You do not want me to bother your new friend."

"Quite Madam."

Mrs. Hudson shrugged and nodded. "All you had to do was ask boys. You know what happens when one runs cross of me and we would not want that happening to one of your friends would we? Now John, dear. I have a favor to ask you if you would I was actually just planning on making a call on you as well." The doctor looked up mildly surprised. "If you boys would follow me I need a little help from you downstairs." John got up and followed the small woman down to her cellar. He was quite surprised by the gloom and the cold down there. He was not surprised by the two taller men following him. "You see boys this bloke was a bad boy and must be taught a lesson about taking what isn't his."

The man was sweating profusely in the chair he was strapped too. All ten of his fingers were at painful conflicting angles and his hands were swollen and purple. "Sticky fingers are such a nasty habit one must correct it quickly. I'm getting a bit on in years so I was wondering if you wouldn't mind finishing the job. Be a dear?"

Sherlock whistled as he observed the thief's mangled hands. Nasty work Hudson had done he'd probably be crippled for life. The thief twitched awkwardly in his chair barely lucid after the damage to his hands.

"What did he do, Mrs Hudson?"

"Oh the stupid boy thought he could make off with twenty pounds of my husbands premium medical grade heroin."

Mycroft coughed and actually looked painfully shocked. He shook his head looking to his younger brother.

"Can you believe that, Sherlock? Must be utterly Mad to try some shit like that?"

John snorted as he pulled his jacket off.

"Twenty pounds huh," the former Army trauma surgeon said. "How did he manage that?" The expression on John's face was one few people saw. There was a kind of madness there that few people recognized. Watson was a different person when he had to hurt people.. he became a monster of sorts. "I think he's paid for ten." John saw his bare feet an a sinister grin spread across his face and then the bottom of John's steel toed boot crushed the man's foot. John felt the bones shift in the man's feet. Then the boot went smashing into his leg and he screamed. John snorted. "Still a little short mate. You owe her five quid."

"Don't forget damages for the truck he stole holding my things. Naughty thieving thing he is. It is so hard to find good help." John looked to Mycroft and held out his hand.

"Let me borrow that for a second." John grasped the cane testing it's weight. He gave it an experimental swing and he liked the feel of it. And then it smashed in the brittle bones at the man's feet and shins. The thief was left a weeping whimpering mess as the cane smashed bone and soft tissue. Mrs Hudson clapped her hands and nodded.

"Right and proper lesson, don't you think boys. Hopefully he paid attention. Mrs. Hudson clucked her tongue as she led the boys of 221 away from her employee. "Have to be firm with the help gents. Ever so grateful for the help. And don't worry about your little friend. I won't be bothered with her. It was jus the principle of the thing really. Up and comer making a mess all over the place, getting nicked by the bobbies and raising the alert and whatnot. I'[m sure you can keep her in check. The young ones are always a bit clumsy anyway."

"Quite," Mycroft said inspecting his cane now that John had returned it. "I doubt it will be any challenge to get Addler a bit less noisy. Now, Mrs. Hudson about the order." \

"Of, course business business. It will be a simple thing. No trouble at all. Well as long as you already have buyers lines up for the upfront."

"Naturally," Sherlock said. "We'll be calling again soon."

"Oh always a treat, boys," Mrs. Hudson said. "I'll get some friends to help me clean up downstairs. Off with you now you've got things to prepare." As they left Sherlock let out a metal sigh. He nearly shuddered visibly but he had far too much control for that. Mycroft slid a cigarette into his mouth as they made their way back to the car.

"You sure about this?" Mycroft asked. He shielded his lighter with his hands. "Moving not only ot bigger quantities but entirely new product. Moving into protections and heroin?"

Sherlock scoffed mildly amused.

"Oh like you hadn't been planning it for months."

"True but I am a long game sort." Mycroft exhaled a cloud of silky smoke and he carefully watched Sherlock. "You are not. Why the sudden shifts brother mine. You had a good thing going low risk high profit. Good connections. Trust. You're taking an awful lot of risks."

"I saw an opportunity and wanted to take it," Sherlock said. He twitched slightly at the smell of the tobacco. Mycroft could be a horrible person sometimes. Most times actually but especially at just this second.

"Strange."

John sighed and cleared his throat saying, "Don't you think it's high time we popped off. You know work to be done and all that. Things will be picking up from here on out won't they lads?" Already the trio had plans for the greatly increased revenue. The boys from 221 were well on their way to owning this city.

Lestrade well known around the desks and even more well known on the barstool at the hotel bar. He knocked back the bourbon and grunted when it went down sour. The place had rubbish liquor. He looked to the beautiful red headed woman seated next to him and grinned. It however made up for it in pleasant company.

"Hello, Jessica," he said. "I take it the boss will be seeing me now."

"Yes, Sir," Jessica said. Irene's ginger lover slid fifty quid across the bar to the keeper and led Lestrade away from his favorite seat.

"I like what you've done for yourself Irene."

"Oh save it, Copper. You kno0w what I called you for."

"Course I do. You need your weekly report." Lestrade lit a cigarette as he took a seat in one of the chairs. The same one Sherlock had been sitting in Irene noted. "I've got bad news for you."

"When don't you," Irene asked as the special inspector pushed a folder across her desk."

"Oh never but this news is worse than other's."  
Irene scanned the file and her expression gradually dropped. It was subtle at first and then overt as her anger built.

"And what exactly is this shit supposed to mean? I pay you to keep pjust this from happening Lestrade."

"No, you don't. You pay me to keep them off your whore arse. I'm giving you warning and this is good actually. It's believable you won't lose anything of value. Call it a controlled burn. I was getting lot's of eyes looking cross at me in the station. I can't completely cover you. You know that. Nothing is more suspicious than a complete blank."

"Fine so my storehouse is going to be raided. Do they know it belongs to me?"

"No, they don't. They think it's a front for a local hood gang. See I'm doing my job. I'm keeping the dogs in the yard on leashes. Pretty important what with this business you're working with the new blokes."

"You make a point. I thik I have another job for your, Lestrade. You have access to the records. I need you to see if the name Hudson comes up."

"Can do. Now about my payment. I think I'm going to like having my door charge waived."

"Enjoy it while it lasts, Lestrade. The moment you show signs of being less useful I cut you."

"Like you could," Lestrade replied. He snorted in amusement as he dumped ash into the tray on the little table by his seat. "I have so much on you it would be suicide, Addler. I want Christine again. Bitch could suck the paint of a wall."

"Very well have Jessica show you out. We'll keep in touch, Inspector."

Irene's nose wrinkled in distaste as Lestrade left. Stupid man did not know how he was tempting fate with his insults and derision. She sincerely hoped the detective was stupid enough to not realize she had just as much on him as he did on her. Mutually assured destruction. It was not an optimal position but it worked. She would do her best to keep him properly disillusioned to the situation though. The idiot really thought he was untouchable as if the fact that Irene had history with Scotland Yard was enough leverage to hold her back should he stop being useful. He had much to learn.

London was about to become a very different place.

Stilted music flowed through the flat in the most inopportune ways. Sherlock scratched and plucked at the Violin strings making irritating noise. John was perilously close to causing his flatmate and business partner bodily harm when Sherlock stopped.

"Are you ready to stop having your pathetic fit about the Addler woman now, John? Get over it and forgive me already so we can get to proper work." John merely looked over the book in his hands and sighed.

"I do not like it, Mate. And apparently neither does Mycroft. It wouldn't be so bad if you would just explain what you're on about. You say it's for the manpower her organization provides but there are much less risky routes than this merger. I swear Hudson's people are professional. And the coppers aren't sniffing after her like Addler. She the worst choice Sherlock."

"True but it makes her something that Hudson is not. Controllable. And willing to pay high prices that we could never demand and with our help she'll be more than capable, John. Now are we over this so you can stop quietly sulking whenever we discuss business."

"Fine. You're an arse I hope you know."

Sherlock was well aware of the fact that he was... less than likeable. And Sherlock was also aware of the fact that this was exactly the reason John was so enamored with him. The doctor was inexplicably dran the the ilicit the hard to control... the mad. It was what had drawn him into the service and it was also what had caused the problems that led to his disgraced discharge. And it was why John was mildy obsessed with the idea of broken firty dealing Sherlock Holmes.


	3. Chapter 3

Sherlock released a breathy almost erotic sigh as the potent substance hit his system. Heroin one of the most glorious things ever concocted by science. The wonderful feeling of just floating completely separated from his body was one of the greatest perks for Sherlock.

It was in the living room chair slumped and dazed that John found his flatmate. The surgeon felt himself flinch slightly at the sight. It had been a while. Though it wasn't his first time finding Sherlock in this state but it was no less unpleasant this time. No matter how little he liked to admit it, John care a great amount about the insufferable bastard he shared this place with. John held Sherlock's hand for a moment feeling it warm, almost unnaturally so.

"Sherlock," John said. The tall lanky man barely stirred. He wondered if he should be worried. Sherlock nasty habits were not worsening it seemed. But they were not improving in any noticeable way either despite Mycroft's multiple attempts. Sherlock was better when busy... when he had people to call... Product to inspect... work to be done. But now there was nothing but the waiting. Nothing but waiting for the supply to come in. Mycroft had no new news from his contacts and their new partner Addler needed nothing from them until she had gotten her whores into the country and safely holed away in the warehouse Mycroft and Sherlock were providing. It was quiet in the flat but John knew that would last. Sherlock was a very different person under the influence of heroin. He was prone to rage and …. outbursts of emotion. The first time had been when Sherlock stumbled in completely off his head on the stuff. The man had been grabbing at John in ways that made the surgeon distinctly uncomfortable... among other things.

"John," Sherlock said in an uncharacteristically pathetic sounding whine. "I'm bored."

"Oh are you now, Mate?"

"Entertain me, John." Sherlock gripped John's hand tightly as he groggily looked up at him. Much like how John was a very different person when he was being violent. Sherlock was a very different person when he was bored. He became a touchy desperate person. Needy almost. Prone to binging on recreational drugs and cigarettes. "You and Mycroft get in a way when I entertain myself." Sherlock reached up and tugged at the collar of John's shirt weakly. He grinned that crooked grin that had captivated John since they met. "John." The surgeon was eye level with Sherlock an unusual position for the two given the height difference. And then John leaned in and kissed his flatmate. John felt those firm lips against his and the way they moved. He would keep Sherlock entertained during the downtime. It was his job.

Lestrade sucked in smoke before outside the warehouse. He could here the destruction taking place inside as the raid team turned the place. He heard the yells of the officers calling out what they had found. So far nothing too bad. A few files containing the names of old johns. Maybe some recreational drugs left by one of the whores. Nothing tying them to Irene he was certain.

"Sir, Lestrade, Sir," one of the Coppers said his head poking out of the wearehouse.

"Get on with it," Lestrade replied.

"looks, like the place was cleaned out in a hurry might be some stuff left behind though they ran fast. Think something made them skittish Inspector?"

:Maybe," Lestrade replies. He blew smoke and looked incredibly thoughtful. "These types are always the slippery ones. Got moles and informants of their own. We might just not have moved fast enough. They don't keep stationary do they..."

"Fredrickson, Sir, Eric Fredrickson."

"What did you and the boys find, Fredrickson. Anything about where they holed up now? Can't have had too much time to go to grounds." Greg new that he had given Irene plenty of time to clear the place out and go to grounds. But why not make it look good. Keep up appearances. Plus it would give him an idea of what the task forces next move was.

"Nothing much, Inspector Lestrade. But we did find one thing." Lestrade looked up his cigarette hangin from his mouth. He didn't like surprises. He stubbed out the fag and turned his attention, fully now, to the cop. "We found what looks like a cipher of some sort. One of the boys thinks it's locations. Perhaps drop points, bolt holes or, shipping pick up somewhat like that." Lestrade carefully did not react. He simply nodded.

"Good work. We might have something on this sneaky bitch let me see. Has anyone broken the cipher?"

"Not yet, Inspector. We called a boy from cryptography and he'll be waiting at the station."

"Good, Man, let me see the cipher seen a number of em know a few types." Lestrade followed the reporting officer into the warehouse and to the evidence logs. The cipher was in a thin notebook. A seemingly random collection of numbers and letters. It was familiar to Lestrade he had seen quite a few ciphers in his previous position on the force. They would need a key to crack it. Well okay they could crack it without the key it would just takes weeks. Valuable time for Irene and her new partners. "Seen the like before Fredrickson?"

"Can't say I have," the young officer replied. Lestrade had no great like of Fredrickson he was far too new. To fresh and noble it seemed. He did like the fact that he didn't question him though. Nice change from the usual sniping and backbiting. The general annoyances of the force.

"think I have. Same exact type I'm thinking," Lestrade said looking closely at the cipher. "Think it's the work of a pretty popular underground coder. Kind of like a scribe the bastard writes codes for criminals helps keep the scum from getting nicked goes by the monicker Scryptic. Tell your man from the bookworm band to start with some of the known keys Scryptic uses we've only got what like two but hey it's a fucking start." The inspector rolled his eyes as the copper went back to work. Lestrade left the cops to chase the bad lead, He knew and well the Scryptic wouldn't get them anywhere. Scryptic codes were not easy to translate it would take the techs a few days to realize that they were on the wrong track. That would be plenty of time, Greg considered. He'd talk to Addler find out how important this notebook was and then see if he was going to need a creative way of making it vanish from evidence. He certainly hoped not. He might not be under as close scrutiny as he could be given his history but people would begin looking at him hard if evidence started going missing. This was the forces first break in the trafficking circle for a while... almost a suspiciously long while. It would not go unnoticed if the one vital bit of evidence went and disappeared. Lestrade slid another cigarette between his lips as he stopped down to climb into his car. Looked like he was heading back to the hotel. He considered if it would look strange. Not particularly he figured. He lived in the area. The place had a swanky open bar. Nothing too unusual. He was going to take Irene up on her very generous offer again.

Irene was immediately grateful for the help of the Holme's boys and their resources. This business venture had scarcely begun and already they had proven themselves quite quite useful. Lestrade and his foolishness had left her in a rush to clear out the house that had been raided. She'd had needed to move no paltry amount of money and personal effects. And all the things she had made ready for the incoming shipment of girls had to be moved. All the papers. Everything. It had bee a nightmarish two days. But it had all come together. She should thank Mycroft and his brother. She should perhaps pffer them special service from some of her finest performers. Irene lifted the glass to her lips and felt the icy liquor go down smooth. One of her favorites a smooth red a bit drier than most liked but something about the perfect blend of flavors kept her keeping a bottle of it handy. And just as she was about to take another swig from her glass her door flew open and Jessica was there wide eyed and panting.

"What is it," Irene asked putting the glass down. Very little managed to shake Jessica. The slender redhead was visibly shaking as she dropped into the chair near the sofa Irene was lounging on.

"Just got a call from Enrique. They were hit by a rival and they were completely blockaded. No way for them to get out of the country. "Several of his people and the girls they were bringing for us... were casualties."

"The hell? A rival? Who? Did he tell you who? How did this happen? Enrique was undisputed! There is no a rival suddenly pops up and has the firepower to do this without somebody noticing."

"Whoever called us had no clue. His enemies have been very quiet... or dead. No one he and his people can think of."

"Something isn't right about this. Something isn't right at all. And right now is the worst possible time for things to be going wrong." Jessica nodded in agreement as Irene got up her drink forgotten. "We need to call Holmes and Lestrade. We need to find out what the hell is going on here.


	4. Chapter 4

Sherlock tented his fingers in front of his face. It was taking a considerable amount of will power to not let his irritation show. This was a problem... a problem that he would need to solve if they did not want more disasters like the one that had befallen their new partner.

"Sherlock are you listening?" Mycroft narrowed his eyes as he exhaled the fragrant smoke of expensive hand rolled cigarettes. "You bloody bastard WAKE UP!" Mycroft rolled his eyes as Sherlock finally focused on him. Sherlock didn't do the decent thing of looking shocked or the least bit remorseful for completely ignoring his brother.

"None of my associates know anything. It seems the impossible has happened, brother mine." Mycroft twirled his cane in his free hand as he thought. Then he tapped it across his crossed knee punctuating the facts. A completely new outside force suddenly appeared. They are strong enough and well armed enough to successfully raid a shipment being moved by Enrique Velasquez. No one in Colombia or Venezuela's underworld has heard of them. What does this tell us? Come now, use your head, boy."

"They targeted us. None of your friends across the world have told you about any surprising losses recently. And Addler had no enemies among the cartels. She was profitable for them and provided a useful service on both ends. The men had whores to keep them entertained and away from the much more lucrative supply of drugs." 

"Good, Sherlock. We need to find out who did this. We need to talk to Addler and see what is to be done about this whole mess. Call John have your little boyfriend meet us." Sherlock nodded and dialed his phone as Mycroft snuffed out his cigarette.

there was an impressive pile of papers littering Irene's desk... many of which would land her and all of associated in federal max security prisons for many many years. However none of them revealed to her the identity of her attacker. "Oh fuck the entirety of this!?" Irene hissed. She sighed and briefly considered flinging the papers across the room or maybe even burning the useless scraps. Instead she looked up as there was a knock on her door and Jessica led Lestrade into her office.

"Greg? I'm not going to lie you are one of the last people I want to see right now."

"Believe me the feelings mutual, sweetheart. I've been spending more than too much time here keeping your shit from reeking up in the window at the yard. I'm sure one of my boys smells the rubbish I'm feeding them you'd best tighten up for a while. I'm here to pass along some news. That bunker we raided you did a good job hastily breaking it down but you left a cipher. It was in a blue notebook. I sent the boys off in the wrong direction it'll buy you maybe a week if it was something worthwhile.

"No, I'm sure it wasn't. We don't use ciphers. Some of the girls use them for client info nothing that can be traced back here I don't think." Then Irene smiled this was good opportunity. "Actually, Inspector. I think there is something very important you can do for me. You have some resources I don't in the special force. And you know a lot of people in the Drug Crimes Unit. Am I correct?"

"I know a few odd sorts from the Drug Force."

"My latest business venture was sabotaged somewhere outside of Colombia and I need you to see if you can come up with any changes among the cartels. Can you do that for me?"  
Lestrade raised an eyebrow in confusion but he agreed. He could ask a few questions in the bunkers upstairs.

"I'll see but I won't be getting back to you soon. You button it up for a tic. I'll see if I can find anything out but I need to stay out of the streets for a bit."

"I am effectively out of commission for a moment as well. I am not nearly as concerned about quick information as I am about accurate trustworthy information." Lestrade nodded and left Irene's office quietly. The woman had to admit that things were not going well so far in this new venture. At least soon the weapons she was procuring from Sherlock and Mycroft would prevent this sort of thing from happening again. Her men would be well armed and her enemies would be dead. It was a very steadying thought. She had lost a considerable amount of time and money betting on the recent order. This awkward new group had been about to change the face of the criminal underground in London. But now they had to start over. It wasn't anything Irene was unfamiliar with. When one moved in the seedy shadowy business she moved in they got used to heavy losses occasionally.

London was a very different place for the Holmes brothers. They saw the way the streets and businesses flowed they saw opportunity and potential for growth where others saw laws preventing them. Unfortunately they were not the only ones.

"Of Course Not. Do whatever you want with them. They're whores you idiot. I don't care about them. I was just wanting to make a little splash with out friends Holmes and Addler. Let them know there is a new game in town. I have another plan in mind for very soon." The phone in the man's hands disconnected and he made a dramatic pouting face. "Uhh this is why I don't pay them to think." He said to himself The crowded subway station bustled around him but he wasn't terribly concerned the person he was waiting for would be there soon enough. And there right on schedule was the little grey head he had been looking for. The man made sure to be patient until the rather unimposing woman was right where he needed her to be. Just right there on the line for the car. And then he turned around as her head exploded from the impact of a high caliber bullet. The sound filled the place and the panic ensued as the man straightened his coat, flipping his collar up and stepping into the train car. The man whistled in celebration as the train sped away from the chaos at the station.

The fact that both of their phones rang simultaneously was unsettling to say the least for the Holmes boys who were comfortably seated in the bar of Irene Addler's hotel. Despite their different appearances the expression on the siblings faces were surprisingly similar. Sherlock and Mycroft wore dark expressions of homicidal rage as they scanned the messages. The pain was intense for both of them and there was a moment of disbelief as Irene Addler stared at them..

"Gentleman? Is something wrong?" Irene did not like the way the brother's looked at each other before they stood up.

"We have something to attend to Irene," Mycroft said. "We'll contact you. Just sit, lay low, and stay out of fucking trouble," he continued as his cane tapped across the floor. Sherlock and John followed him silently.

"Sherlock what happened, Mate? You look like you want to bloody murder someone? I'm normally the one who looks like that. When you've been a massive git." The tall man just handed over his cellphone and John looked at the message. And it was at that moment John wanted to crush the offending object.

"Who the fuck did this? Mrs Hudson? Mrs. Hudson!" John hissed as he jogged to catch up with the longer strides of the taller men. "What is going on Sherlock?"

"We're being targeted, John. Somebody has it out for 221."

"Wait how? Who?"

"If we knew that, They would already be dead, John," Mycroft said. "We know that they are after us. Irene was attacked … right after becoming partner in 221. All the people she was pulling in were either killed or lost. She took a nasty hit and now this. Hudson was a huge source of support for us here. And she was a link to a lot of our suppliers. Both of them were our allies."

"If this slimy wanker was after us why is he hiding like a little bitch and hurting our associates instead of coming after us?"

"Oh obvious John. They're trying to get our attention. I say they have more than they wanted now," Sherlock said. The trio made their way back to the car as Mycroft pulled a cigarette from his beautiful silver case. Sherlock held his hand out and Mycroft raised an eyebrow.

"Give me a fucking cigarette Mycroft. It is either this or I go find my needle. And I need my mind to find this bastard." Mycroft nodded and handed over the cigarette case. Both of them lit up and slid into the car. "Oh Mycroft stupid low tar shit." Sherlock said.

"What do we do? 221 is under attack," John asked in the quiet of Mycrofts car. The government official tapped the partition and the car started.

"John we're going to hit the streets again. Tonight we're walking Baker street. And going to go see some old friends."

"Didn't we burn those bridges mate? Like I'm pretty sure that all of Baker Street hates us."

"Hating us doesn't mean they won't answer our questions, John. Very few people like the people who put them out of business but they still take the paycheck from the new boss. We are walking Baker Street, John. We need to know what is happening. And no where is more connected to the moving of the underground than Baker street. Think of it like going home, it's where we started."

"Yeah doesn't mean I'm in a hurry to go back."

"Oh rubbish," Sherlock said in the hazy interior of the car. "You know you love it. Wear something sexy, John. We are going out." Mycroft rolled his eyes and exhaled smoke he hated this part of the job and he most certainly hated being witness to his brother and his inexcusable pandering to his flatmate. They two of them should stop the games and just admit they were shagging on occasion it would certainly make the tension ease in the car. He had to admit his brother was right if there was any place to start looking for their new enemy it was Baker Street.


End file.
